Chapter 33 Olivia
OLIVIA
There was a paint chip on the wall directly behind what used to be my uncle’s desk. I’d never noticed it before. Why would I, when I’d spent more time sorting files in this room than appreciating the years of wear and tear?
What else had I not noticed?
The walls were lined with photos from his years of travel.
There was one of us on my first trip to Paris.
John had taken me there not long after my father died because he thought it’d take my mind off the horrors back home, but it hadn’t worked.
All I could think about as I meandered down miles of museum hallways was how Dad would’ve loved it, which only made me miss him more.
And then there was the same picture that sat on my nightstand. One of Duke, Lukas, and me on the same dock I’d stood on only yesterday.
I quickly looked away, unable to stomach their smiling faces.
My conversation with Duke had played on a loop through my mind over the past thirty-six hours. The false sense of safety on the dock, the itch of desperation as I watched him walk into the house without me, and then the crash that set everything on fire.
It’s for the best, I tried to convince myself, but the lie was hollow. Not even the most pessimistic part of me believed it.
I heard voices coming from down the hall, and straightened in my seat. Lukas and a woman I didn’t recognize came striding in moments later. My brother took the seat beside me, the leather creaking as he shifted his weight.
Despite having ridden over to John’s house together, we hadn’t spoken much all morning.
He tried, but after a handful of attempts crashed and burned, he realized I was a lost cause.
I hadn’t talked to anyone outside of Charlie, who, unfortunately for me, kept talking about the two of us going on monthly dates with Duke and Harper.
The woman took a seat behind the desk. She pulled out a small tablet and positioned it toward us. The next moment, a familiar face appeared on the screen.
“Mr. Hart, Ms. Hart. Though I wish it were under better circumstances, I am delighted to meet you. John was an extraordinary man who lived an extraordinary life,” she said.
I dipped my chin. “Thank you. I’m sorry, but I didn’t catch your name.”
“Forgive me.” The woman held her hand out. “I’m Allison Reid. I had the pleasure of working with your uncle regarding his estate. And Mr. Carl Johnson,” she gestured toward the tablet, “is here at his request.”
Carl handled commercial and entertainment law for Hartstrings. Having him here didn’t make any sense. As though reading my mind, the lawyer chuckled over the line. “I’m not sure why I’m here, either. Mr. Hart didn’t leave me any instructions.”
“Hopefully there’s some in there,” Lukas said, gesturing toward Allison’s suitcase lying on the desk.
“Of course.” Allison smiled and pulled out a large manila folder from inside.
Final Wishes and Directives of John Hart was written in neat cursive at the top. She flipped it over, swiping a sharp nail beneath the seal. Inside was a leatherbound binder and two envelopes.
“Those are for us?” I asked, clearing my throat of the emotions threatening to surface.
The jagged scrawl across the top of the envelopes was one I instantly recognized. I’d stared at thousands of handwritten notes from my uncle over the years. He’d leave them throughout my office for me to stumble upon randomly.
Allison nodded. “They are. I have no idea of the contents. They were added to our files after Mr. Hart’s passing.
We received them in the mail, with instructions to ensure they were given to you directly.
Additionally, I can confirm that a third letter was mailed to a family member whom Mr. Hart asked not to be present. ”
Lukas and I shared a knowing look. We’d both wondered whether our mother would be in attendance. Neither of us had been surprised when we pulled up to find the house empty.
I suppose it made me feel slightly less bitter knowing she was asked to stay away, and not that she couldn’t be bothered to show up.
Allison slid the letters across the table for us to take. My thumb traced the slight indentations in the paper as a wave of grief washed over me. I’d done such a good job since his death, pushing everything down, down, down until I nearly had myself convinced it wasn’t real.
But I couldn’t do that anymore. Sitting in a room with two lawyers and an envelope marked with his shaky scrawl made it irrefutable. John was gone, and we were still here. Forced to go about our day-to-day lives as though we hadn’t lost the one constant we had in a world of variables.
I’d been so angry at myself for not being there when he died. I knew he hadn’t been feeling well, and yet I left him as though the man had all the time left in the world. There wasn’t a chance to have a deathbed confessional for all the things that went unsaid. There wasn’t even a goodbye.
But these letters gave me hope for guidance. Or at the very least, closure.
“I should mention that a will reading like this isn’t a normal procedure.
The movies make my job seem much more suspenseful than it really is,” Allison said.
“But as this was a specific request made by Mr. Hart, my firm decided to honor it. We will discuss the will first before moving on to your letters.”
She opened the binder, flipping to the first page, and began reading.
“I, John Hart, being of sound mind and body, declare this to be my last will and testament, hereby revoking all wills made by me. I appoint Olivia Hart as the Executor of this will. Should she be unable in any capacity, I appoint Lukas Hart as the Successor Executor.”
We both nodded. That wasn’t a surprise to either of us.
John had made it clear early on that I would be the one handling his estate.
It was why I spent the majority of my time in this office, sorting through more paperwork than I’d ever seen in my life.
John had saved damn near every scrap of paper that ever crossed his desk.
“In regard to my monetary assets, stocks, and bonds, forty percent each will be gifted to Olivia Hart and Lukas Hart, while twenty percent will be gifted to Susan Hart, with the condition that she successfully completes a regimented recovery program.”
“I hadn’t expected that,” Lukas said.
I shrugged. “I assumed she was going to get some kind of stipend. I’m sure Dad’s was set to dry up at some point.”
“In regard to my home and the possessions within, Olivia Hart will be the sole beneficiary. She is welcome to make any changes she desires. However, should she wish to sell the property, the Hart Family Trust must be given first right of refusal.”
Now that was a surprise. I never thought about who might inherit the property, but for whatever reason, I hadn’t believed it would be me. Lukas seemed the likely benefactor. He lived in Pinecrest after all.
I did not.
But maybe it wouldn’t be terrible having my own place to stay when I came home. At least I wouldn’t have to crash in Lukas’s guest house anymore. And Charlie could have a sense of stability. She could pick any room she wanted and decorate it however she saw fit.
There was a little flutter of excitement before I remembered any stay here would be short-lived. It wasn’t permanent.
But it could be.
“And finally, in regard to the majority shares I hold of Hartstrings Records,” Allison paused, glancing up at us before continuing.
“I hereby gift them in their entirety to Olivia Hart. She is free to do with them as she sees fit. If shares are sold, she is entitled to ten percent of the proceeds, while the remainder is to be deposited back into the trust.”
Even though I’d been expecting the news, all the air left my lungs as Allison finished speaking. I waited in tense silence, hoping to hear the caveats I craved, that there were stipulations and red tape and a million other stipulations that’d free me, but she simply sat back in her chair.
“What about my job?” I asked. Carl’s presence here suddenly made sense. “Can I be CEO and majority shareholder at the same time, the way our company agreement is designed?”
He tapped his fingers against his desk. “It’s not entirely uncommon, especially for some smaller companies. I don’t believe it’s against any of our clauses, though I’d need to verify.”
“And what are my options if it is?”
“Well, to be frank, you would have a decision to make—to keep your role as CEO of Hartstrings Records, or become the majority shareholder. From there, depending on your answer, we’d begin the transition.”
He said it so casually, as though it were really that easy. But how the hell were we going to do that when I didn’t even know what they were? All of this was too much. I didn’t have the capacity to make any more decisions right now. Especially not when the last one I made was still haunting me.
“How long will it take you to look up the specifics?”
Carl chuckled. “I’m pulling up the documents as we speak. Would you be available tomorrow morning? As you may know, the other shareholders are dying to dig their claws further into the business. The sooner we figure out the company’s path, the sooner we can get them off our backs.”
Tomorrow. It was too soon. I didn’t want to leave. There were still so many things I wanted to do while I was home, but there was no time left.
Charlie. Lukas. Grady. Cleo. Harper.
Duke.
I’d have to leave everyone behind, going back to living out of hotels and eating takeout, alone, in front of the television. Compared to the past two months, that might as well have been my fucking nightmare.
The chair squeaked as my fingers dug into the armrest. Panic clawed at my throat, threatening to tear me up from the inside. I was vaguely aware of someone saying my name.
“Livvy?” Lukas asked, drawing my gaze toward him. Concern hardened his eyes. “Are you okay?”